


Nobody Drinks Alone

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Future, Points of View, Romance, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-28
Updated: 2005-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-27 02:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Post-513:  Brian arrives to a conclusion -NOBODY SHOULD EVER DRINK ALONE.





	Nobody Drinks Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

**A/N:** REPOSTING. This story did not make it to the "RECENT LIST". Perhaps it got dumped somewhere else. LOL Many thanx to Donna and Mari for reviewing this, they were the few ones who saw this lurking around.

It’s pouring so hard today. And Keith Urban is playing in my laptop. I guess, it’s not a good combination coz this story was conceived. And I don’t really quite like how this turned out. Well, I’m sharing it anyway. - Kaye ;o)

* * *

_**Alone in this house again tonight  
I got the TV on, the sound turned down and a bottle of wine** _

 

Ninety three days have passed since he left. You have just finished putting an **X** mark to the desk calendar before shoving it back in one of your desk drawers. 

 

__**There's pictures of you and I on the walls around me  
The way that it was and could have been surrounds me  
I'll never get over you walkin' away**

 

You walked toward the liquor cart and pour yourself another drink. Your fifth serving. Or maybe your sixth. You have lost count already after the call. You brought the glass to your lips. And again, you paused and inhaled the scent of the alcohol before downing the whole goddamn liquid. 

 

_**I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show  
And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control** _

 

You spoke with him exactly twenty minutes ago. It lasted the _usual_ ten minutes. You and he agreed that the calls can’t go on longer than that. It was actually _you_ who stressed that anything else discussed after the ten minute mark are pointless and superfluous. He just agreed and did not argue. He simply acquiesced. Besides, he said, he knew you’re the one paying for the exorbitant phone calls. Inwardly, you wished he acted all bratty and whiny like when he was seventeen. You secretly yearned that he’d insist on that, ‘ _Please, Brian…two minutes, more,_ ’ ploy he used to pull on you.

You thought he sounded awfully exhausted, tonight. He said he hasn’t been getting enough rest trying to adjust to his life in New Fucking York. You can feel the weariness in his voice, and you felt your heart ached a bit. You wanted to tell him about the new duvet you bought for him the other day. And how good the expensive sheet would feel against his tired and dead beat body. But you perished the thought quickly and instead sarcastically intoned that that’s what he gets for choosing to be in a _city that never sleeps_. He quickly said he wasn’t complaining. And he sounded really apologetic, and a bit embarrassed.

You wanted to say more. You took a quick glance at your watch, then you knew it was time to hang up. 

 

_**But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain** _

 

Oh God, how you missed him. Achingly. Terribly. Madly. _Intolerably…like tonight._

You eyed your celphone sitting idly at your desk. No, you censured yourself for even thinking about it. You shut your eyes tightly closed to lull the foreboding act. Can’t. Won’t.

But you’re only human. Of flesh and blood you’re made.

 

“Hey.”

_“Um, hi. You forgot something?”_

“What, you're some kind of a psychic now? Hmm...let me see. Did it ever occur to you, that ...I hate you?” 

_“Um, well. Do you?”_

“No. But I wish I do.”

_“Why?”_

“Why what? Why I don’t?Or why I fucking wish I do?”

_“Neither, Brian. I meant, why did you call back?”_

 

_**To hell with this pride, let it fall like rain…from my eyes** _

 

“Well, do you maybe think you need a new set of bed cover or something?" 

_“Oh. A bed cover. Um... of course, I’d like a new comforter. I guess the one I brought here needs replacement already.”_

“It’s a **du-vet** , Justin. And yes, you stole my favorite.”

_“Yeah. Sorry bout that. Um, so, you coming this weekend?”_

“I think my schedule might permit that. I’ll see you, then.”

_“Okay. Great. So… what now?”_

“What… what now?”

_“Brian, I don’t know. What else do you want me to say?”_

“What made you think I’m waiting for you to say something?”

_“Maybe because you’re still not hanging up.”_

“I pay for these fucking calls. I can do what I want.”

There was a fleeting silence before he said it. He said the things you feverishly pushed deep into the dark crevices of your mind. The words you have been avoiding like a plague, but aching to hear from him. 

_“I’m sorry, Brian. I’m sorry for putting you through all these. I know you hate me. You hated me for leaving Pittsburgh. For leaving you. And I know you still do. It was so selfish of me to choose New York and my ambitions over what we have and what we could possibly have. You wouldn't tell me these things, of course, but I know. Fuck, I would hate myself too, if I were you –“_

“But you’re not me.”

_“I know that. You're not me. Because you're different. And you would always give me what I want, what will make me happy - even if it meant hurting yourself.”_

“As long as you’re happy. Nothing wrong with that. I think.”

_“But I’m not happy. And everything seems wrong, everything feels wrong.”_

“Then, what the fuck are you _still_ doing there, Justin?”

_“Maybe, because. I don't know! Maybe ...I was waiting for that one night when you’re alone and dreadfully drunk out of your head. And you’d make that second call to me. And that you'd ask me if I’d like to have another set of bed cover.”_

 

**_Tonight I wanna cry._ **

 

“I will see you this weekend, Justin. Get some sleep.”

_“Yes, okay. Look, I’m sorry for acting like a wuss, Brian. Damn, I shouldn’t have started this. Alright, I’ll see you, then. And, thanks for the duvet.”_

“I’m not bringing it, anymore.”

_“Oh.”_

“Pack up your shit . I’m taking you home, twat.”

You heard him let out a deep sigh. But you held yours. You both said your ‘laters’ and hung up. At the same time releasing that breath you momentarily placed under arrest. With a smirk on your face, you padded to the bed and made a strict mental reminder to yourself: _Never drink alone, ever again._


End file.
